


Since Forever

by silenceisscreaming



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s11e20 Don't Call Me Shurley, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-23
Updated: 2016-11-23
Packaged: 2018-09-01 17:17:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8631997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silenceisscreaming/pseuds/silenceisscreaming
Summary: They've both known since forever.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place immediately after s11e20.
> 
> Disclaimer: It's all Kripke's, and Carver's, and Thompson's.

They’ve both known since forever. They know each other too well to not see it, to not notice. Sam knows every detail of Dean’s face when he’s attracted to someone. Knows the softness of his eyes when they’re full of affection. Dean knows the colour Sam blushes when he digs too close to the truth, when he teases him about a girl. He knows the tone of Sam’s voice when he cares. 

It’s an unspoken knowledge between them. They both know and they’ve both silently agreed to leave it at that. They’ve portrayed as close to a normal brotherly relationship as possible when said brothers are irrevocably in love with each other. They’ve been content with the choices they’ve made. 

Until now.

Now, Dean can’t help but wonder what it would be like. If they just said ‘fuck it’ and acted on their feelings. He imagines how soft Sam’s kiss would be, how hard his chiselled abs. He wants to know what it feels like to have Sam kiss him awake, how Sam’s hair would feel when he ran his fingers through it. And once Dean starts thinking about it, he can’t stop. 

They’re closer than they’ve been in years. They’ve put all their mistakes behind them; Ruby, the apocalypse, purgatory, the Mark. Everything that ever came between them has been dealt with and he finally feels at peace with his brother. Especially now that, because of Chuck (he supposes he should say God), he has the amulet back. He’d regretted throwing the damn thing away ever since he let it fall but there wasn’t anything he could do about it. He was shocked to find out that Sam had kept it all these years. Through being in the cage, through being soulless, after everything with Crowley and the Mark. Dean had never been more thankful.

They’re sitting in a motel after having the most confusing conversation ever with Chuck. They’ve been told to take it easy for a bit while he looks for Amara and Dean would argue that ‘you can’t disobey God, Sammy, we can take a few days.’

Sam is sitting on the edge of his bed, the one furthest from the door, fiddling with the amulet. Dean sits at the small table and watches him, not speaking. He isn’t sure what to say. Isn’t sure what he wants to say. He stays silent. 

Eventually, Sam glances up and speaks.

“Dean, I’m sorry,” he says softly. Dean furrows his brow in confusion.

“For what?” Sam doesn’t answer for several moments but Dean knows not to press just yet.

“For everything, I guess?” Sam says finally. “For everything I’ve put you through, everything I’ve done. But mostly right now, for holding onto this.”

He holds up the amulet with a twisted, pained smile before dropping his hand back down. Dean stands up and moves to the other bed, sitting down in front of Sam, their knees knocking together. 

“Sammy, it’s okay. I’m done holding onto the past. You know that. I’ve forgiven you and I hope you’ve forgiven me too. I’m glad you kept this,” he says as he runs his fingers over Sam’s hand.

“I’ve been waiting for the right moment to give it back to you. Although I wasn’t sure you’d want it back. Everything just kept getting in the way, you know? Whatever this is,” he says gesturing between them, “was broken but I think now, we’ve fixed it. We’re closer than we’ve been in a really long time and I’m glad. I missed you.”

Dean doesn’t let go of Sam’s hand, just uses the other one to pull the amulet out of Sam’s palm. “I missed you too, Sammy.”

He uses one hand to slip the amulet over his head. It comes to rest against his chest and it feels like coming home. Sam smiles softly and turns his hand to catch Dean’s. They just grin at each other for a minute before Sam’s smile drops and he cocks his head. 

“You’ve changed your mind,” he says blatantly. Dean scrunches his face.

“What do you mean?” 

“I mean you’ve changed your mind about this. You want it.” Dean can feel the blood rushing to his face. He’s not surprised that Sam can read him like a book but he still wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t have a lot of time to adjust to the idea of actually acting on this thing between them. 

Dean clears his throat. “Yeah, I uh – I guess I do. The way I figure it, we’ve done a lot for this world. I think we deserve something for ourselves.”

He hangs his head slightly but looks up at Sam expectantly. 

Sam deliberates for a while, probably making pro and con lists in his head, running every scenario, every outcome. And then, he slowly nods.

“Okay,” he says simply. Dean raises his head in surprise. He didn’t think it would be that easy. 

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. You’re right. Why are we denying ourselves something that will make us happy? We’ve given enough.”

Neither of them moves just yet. They just look at each other, silently fitting the pieces together for how this is going to work. And then, very slowly, Sam raises his free hand- the one not threaded through Dean’s- and slides his fingers over Dean’s face before cradling his head and drawing him closer. Dean goes with it and their faces stop just inches away from each other.

“There’s no coming back from this,” Sam whispers.

“I know,” Dean breathes before closing the gap and pressing his lips to Sam’s.

It’s sweet and chaste and short. Dean pulls back, his eyes flicking open to see Sam’s reaction but he doesn’t get long before Sam is moving back in for a deeper kiss. They push against each other in a desperate attempt to merge themselves together. Dean lifts himself off the bed and leans over Sam, forcing him to fall backward onto the mattress. Dean follows him down, crawling up to straddle him. Sam throws back his head to breathe so Dean takes the opportunity to pay attention to Sam’s throat. That long beautiful neck that’s taunted him when Sam gets out of the shower, still damp with water dripping down over his collarbone. 

Sam starts pulling at Dean’s clothes and it’s his whine more than anything that makes Dean pause and pull back. Sam looks up at him questioningly.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, breathing hard. Dean runs his fingers over the bruise he’d left on Sam’s neck. 

“You know this is going to make everything harder. We’re going to go even crazier now if one of us gets hurts. Go even farther if one of us dies,” Dean answers.

Sam smiles fondly at him. “Dean, how much farther can we go? We’ve gone to hell, we’ve released monsters, we’ve almost condemned ourselves to the empty on a whim. There’s nothing we haven’t already done. I’m not saying it won’t hurt just that little bit more but Dean, think about it. We’ve been in love with each other for pretty much forever. Just because we’re acting on it now doesn’t mean the feelings weren’t there all along. Nothing has really changed.”

Dean considers this before he nods and pushes back into Sam’s space. He takes Sam apart in every way he knows how and by the time his brain has caught back up with him, he’s got Sam’s head lying on his chest, an arm thrown over his stomach, a foot caught between his own. Sam’s deep, even breaths tell Dean that his brother is almost asleep.

Before he leaves the waking world entirely, Dean opens his mouth, “Sam?”

He doesn’t know what else to say. ‘Are we okay?’ ‘Was it good?’ ‘Where do we go from here?’ None of it seems like enough.

Sam shifts his head to look up at him. He smiles softly and says, “Yeah, Dean.”

And that’s really all Dean has to know. Amara is still out there and she has Lucifer who may or may not be an ally. God, The God, is planning on meeting up with them in a couple days. The world looks like it’s ending and Dean doesn’t care about any of it. His world is in his arms. His world is this beautiful gift of a man he’s been privileged to raise, protect and care for. And that’s all he really needs.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not entirely happy with this but I'm sick of staring at it.


End file.
